The Junk Truck

  • By Melissa Herrera
  • June 29, 2010
  • 526
                        
I heard the truck before I saw it. Announcing itself with a vociferous muffler, it pulled into my line of sight. I was greeted with a truck bed stacked haphazardly with rusted metal contents. Worn out stoves, cranky lawn mowers, and oddly shaped metal pieces nested comfortably in a jumble. “Have any metal you want to get rid of?” I’ve done many garage sales. The particular one we held this week was no different. We set up in a comfy little old garage of the house my niece just moved into. The sale went splendidly --- a steady stream of people in and out. Items were headed out the door. That is, it didn’t seem any different until the junk truck pulled up. They hopped out and inquired if we had metal. We pondered this and realized the two gargantuan air conditioners were something they might value. Then some metal cookie sheets appeared, along with trashed items that were out back. They were quick and efficient. How they fit everything on that truck bed with such a teetering load was a marvel to watch. I asked the woman a few questions which she answered with honest zeal. It was what she said next that caused me to falter. She said, “You know, we do this every day to feed our kids. Morning ‘till night.” She never hesitated or was embarrassed. Plain and simple facts came out of her mouth. Her husband, much the same, told this to my aunt as he strained to lift the heavy air units into the truck – “My back is not strong, but I pray to God for strength. And I pray every morning that He will fill my truck up to the brim.” The air became heavy for me to breathe. We watched them tie down and pull tight their precious cargo, and take off up the road. These people, so honest and real, had faith that God would fill their truck with junk every day --- just so they could survive. Do I trust God to fill me up every day? Do I have the faith it takes to do what these people do just to live? These times we’re living in are either faith-makers or faith-breakers. People are having to do things they never dreamed of to make a living. Are we any different than the people that scavenge for scrap metal? Or do we just hide it a little better? I do. I know that I sometimes hide behind the curtains in my home and hope for things to get a little better. It’s either that or sink into bed, never to rise again! My husband is a giver. He’s told me recently that his tank is empty. We’ve been living an insular life that doesn’t preclude itself to giving. We fed off our own hurts, broken dreams and life lessons that made us fall. It’s time to get up, he said. Dust ourselves off and start giving. My negative side starts roiling and I want to say what can we give if we have nothing? The wise man that he is, stops me with a look. It’s not what we have, it’s the love we can give. Simple meals we could cook, the friendship we can share. I need filled up with God’s blessings again --- I need to fortify my faith, he said. God showed me faith today. It materialized in the form of an old truck filled with rusty junk, and the people who get in it everyday so their kids can eat. I’m inspired by this most unlikely example. It goes well with the prayer I cut out of a church paper last Sunday. It would be like God, to tie them together for me right under my nose so I can see. “God, help us to have faith and to trust your words. Help us to act in hope even when we stare into the impossible. Help us to listen to your unlikely messengers, especially when their words surprise us and give us discomfort. Only our good God could reign forever. Amen.”


Loading next article...

End of content

No more pages to load